


The truth game

by ginnyred



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: (Almost), Canon Compliant, Drawing, Fluff, Honesty, M/M, Pillow Talk, Post-Canon, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnyred/pseuds/ginnyred
Summary: "Wait, wait. Don't move.""Mh?" Marti opens his eyes and peeks at Nico from under the arm he's thrown over his eyes.He's got his sketchbook precariously balanced on a pillow and is frowning at it, shading carefully with his pencil, obviously drawing Marti.Marti doesn't move, but smiles, secretly charmed and very curious. "Can I see?"
Relationships: Niccolò Fares/Martino Rametta
Comments: 20
Kudos: 80





	The truth game

"Wait, wait. Don't move."

"Mh?" Marti opens his eyes and peeks at Nico from under the arm he's thrown over his eyes.

He's got his sketchbook precariously balanced on a pillow and is frowning at it, shading carefully with his pencil, obviously drawing Marti.

Marti doesn't move, but smiles, secretly charmed and very curious. "Can I see?"

"One second, I'm finishing up." Nico glances up, pointing his pencil at Marti in reproach. "Stop smiling, you're ruining the mood."

Marti bites his lip, but it doesn't work. He keeps smiling anyway. "What's the mood?"

"Like... pensive and sexy. Don't _smile_." Nico slaps Marti's arm lightly, but he's smiling himself. He tilts his head to the side, looking at his work from a different angle. He fixes something with a few quick strokes, then tilts his head to the other side. He seems pleased. "Here. I think it came out okay."

Marti takes the sketchbook Nico is handing over and looks at the drawing: it's quick but precise.

Marti doesn't know the technical term for it but Nico's bold dark strokes make him look weirdly cool: Marti's head on the pillow, an arm over his eyes, the hint of a bare chest.

It's stunning, as always. Seeing himself through Nico's eyes is always flattering too.

_Pensive and sexy._

"Wow," he says honestly and Nico beams at that, as if he didn't know. Marti gives the drawing back, wondering how far he can push this. Wondering if it's even worth it. "Too bad about the model."

Nico rolls his eyes, laying the sketchbook down carefully on the nightstand. "You're fishing for compliments now?"

Marti leans back against the pillow, smiling up at Nico. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Nico shakes his head, fond, and leans down for a kiss that is all but unexpected. Marti welcomes it with a pleased hum, now a lot more awake, and lets Nico hold his jaw as they kiss, pressing down on the small of his back until Nico complies and lies down on his side on the bed.

They break apart but stay close, holding each other's gaze. Marti reaches out and grazes Nico's lower lip with his thumb.

"Wanna play it?" Marti asks, clear enough, even if they're whispering.

"Now?"

Marti shrugs. "Why not."

Nico's lips stretch into a grin and he pretends to bite at Marti's thumb. "So you can make me say nice things about you?"

"You haven't even heard the question yet!"

Nico huffs a laugh at that, as he grabs the pillow he used for drawing earlier and settles more comfortably on the bed. "Question?" he repeats, an eyebrow raised. "Just one?"

"Just one."

"Chill then."

"Depends on the question." Marti smiles, going for mysterious and probably failing. "Do you have _your_ question ready?"

Nico shrugs. "I'm letting yours inspire me."

"Mmmm, okay. Forfeit?"

"Ahhhh." Nico's eyes shine with mischief. "That was nice last time."

Marti scoffs at the memory. "Because you're a fucking cheater! You're not supposed to ask general knowledge questions."

"Then you should have put it in the rules," Nico sing-songs, amused. "Also, everyone knows about the platypus, Marti."

"Says you. From now on, you're not allowed to ask general knowledge questions. And that's a rule."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Marti rolls his eyes and smacks Nico's shoulder in jest. "Stupid," he says. It comes out embarrassingly love-drunk. "And, like, for the forfeit. If someone doesn't answer the question..."

"They're doing the dishes for a month."

Marti huffs a laugh: Nico hates the dishes. He says it's something about touching wet food, but Marti thinks it's more something about never having to do it before in his life (yeah, yeah. London. Whatever).

"Deal." Marti offers his hand to Nico, who links their fingers together instead of shaking it, and then kisses his knuckles, earning a half-convinced snort from Marti, but it definitely still counts.

"You start," Nico prompts. He's lying on his side, cheek pressed against the pillow, a curious light in his eyes like he thinks he knows what's coming.

Maybe he does. Maybe Marti really is the most predictable. That makes him hesitate. That, and the fact they’ve talked about asking questions he doesn't really want to know the answer to. The thing is, he can't be sure he doesn't want to know until Nico answers. And playing it safe never really worked for him.

"Who else have you drawn?" Marti blurts out in the end. He glances up but Nico's expression doesn't change, like he's not surprised. "And I don't mean, like... I know about Eva and that project. And those caricatures of the boys." He waves that away. "What I mean is-"

"I know what you mean," Nico says, squeezing Marti's hand. "And I have drawn them. Both of them. At times."

A sudden exhale. Then, slowly, Marti nods.

... it would be a lie to say it doesn't hurt. It would also be a lie to say he didn't expect it at all. Was Marti only chasing flattery? He's a bit scared of digging deeper now.

He shakes his head, annoyed that his genius plan blew up in his face, frustrated that, no matter how loud Nico's love for him is, he can't seem to let go of the frustration he feels whenever he's reminded there have been other people.

Which is shitty, because he knows he has no right to resent Nico for it. And he doesn't. It just makes him feel... small, he supposes: small and scared. Like maybe he isn't as special as Nico's love always makes him feel.

"Marti," Nico calls, but Marti shakes his head again.

"Sorry, Ni, I fucked up." He pauses, then sighs. "I swear this was fun in my head."

"I believe it's my turn now," Nico interrupts, gentle but firm. He waits until Marti's eyes are on him, then waggles his eyebrows. "Unless you want to do the dishes until the end of times?"

Marti laughs quietly. "No."

"Okay." Nico scoots imperceptibly closer, holding their conjoined hands close to his lips as he speaks. "Tell me about all the people you fell for before we met."

A long pause, then Marti sighs. "Ni."

"What, am I not allowed to be jealous too?" Nico insists, but he's smiling. "Remember the dishes."

"You know all this stuff already," Marti tries to stall.

"You haven't really been generous with the details."

"Yeah! Because most of it sucks and digging it up is not exactly my idea of a fun tim-" Marti interrupts himself, noticing the way Nico's eyebrows go up at that.

Of course.

He exhales deeply, disentangling their fingers to he can stroke along Nico's cheek. "Sorry," he says, which is not was he planning to say but somehow it's always where he ends up with Nico. Boyfriend of the year, once again. "I swear I don't know why you stick around. All I do is being a dick to you."

Nico shushes him, lifting a finger to Marti's lips.

"None of that. It's not true," he says simply. "Now answer the question." He taps Marti's lips once. "A little bird told me about a young lady called Elisa Passarelli?"

"Ah, great. Consider the little bird dead." Marti rolls his eyes. "Also, the fact it's a _young lady_ should tell you all you need to know about this."

Nico smiles. "So it wasn't true love?"

"Tragically, no," Marti deadpans. He scoffs when Nico starts tracing an imaginary tear along the side of Marti's face down to the corner of his mouth.

"But you kissed her?"

"Only when other people could see."

"And was she the only other person you kissed... before me?"

"Well… yeah." It takes a second, then the memory hits: dark blue lights, cold cans of beer, his heart beating in his throat with sheer panic. He can't believe he forgot about it. "Wait, no,” he amends quickly. “Eva kissed me once."

"WHAT?!" There is something comical about the way Nico's eyes go wide in shock. "When?"

"Not long before meeting you, actually." Marti shrugs. "But it was just because I'd lied and told her I fancied her instead of... you know."

"The little bird."

Marti blushes. "... yeah."

"You know. One thing I don’t get about that is that you've never..." Nico pauses, trying to gauge Marti's reaction. "Like, I know he's straight, but still."

"I'd messed up enough – and it only would have led to a bigger mess." Marti sighs. "There was one time, we were in Greece, when I almost… I was drunk and miserable and I was like, 'can it really get worse than this?'. But in the end, I couldn't."

"Oh." Nico pauses for a moment, as if considering Marti's words. "I wasn't even drunk."

It makes Marti laugh. Somehow, it hurts less to talk about this now, in this way. Like this can be something they share, rather than something to fear. Weird how that works.

"Okay, but that's different," he argues sensibly. "You were... well, in love with Luai, and he felt the same, while Gio-"

"Are you going to tell me Gio didn't, _doesn’t_ , love you?" Nico looks politely skeptical. "Because I call bullshit on that."

"I mean, it's a different kind of love, isn't it?"

Marti doesn't miss the flash of... something, maybe pride, maybe just unguarded affection, in Nico's eyes when he says that. As Nico leans in, smiling big, brushing his nose against Marti’s in that charming way he has, Marti feels very loved. And very stupid.

"Yeah, it is."

They share another, deeply expected kiss. Marti wraps an arm around Nico's waist to get him to roll on top of him and tilts his head back to expose his neck before Nico's mouth even leaves his. Nico grins, maybe a big smug, but complies, and starts peppering kisses down the length of Marti's neck.

As he paws blindly at the back of Nico's neck to encourage him – not that he needs it – Marti accidentally hits his hand against the corner of the nightstand. He curses under his breath at the sharp pain.

The sudden blow makes Nico's sketchbook, still open, topple onto the pillow right next to Marti’s face.

Nico giggles and detaches his lips from Marti's neck to move it out of the way. Something about his own drawing must distract him, though, because he stops to consider it once again. Marti only allows him a handful of seconds of contemplation before kissing the inside of Nico's wrist, mouth open and impatient, trying to get his attention again.

It works. Nico puts the sketchbook back on the nightstand, and smiles down at Marti, somewhere between amused, soft, and just this side of turned on.

"Will you believe me if I tell you this is my favourite of all the portraits I've done?" Nico asks, painfully sincere.

It's ridiculous that this, of all things, should make Marti flush, but it does, his cheeks and the back of neck hotter now than when Nico was kissing him a moment ago. Marti is pretty sure the tips of his ears are burning red hot too.

"Is it because you can't see my face?" he mumbles, trying to look less pathetic by cracking a joke.

Predictably, Nico groans. He rolls his eyes and pushes the sketchbook so it falls back down onto the bed, precisely on Marti's nose this time.

"Ouch!"

Nico leans down to leave a kiss on Marti's heart. "Idiot."


End file.
